All We Are
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: It was hard to shake the weight that people placed on biology.
1. Chapter 1

**~NOTE: THIS FIC HEAVY FOCUSES ON THE DEATH OF A RECURRING CHARACTER ~**

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 **I have several other fics I need to worry about for other fandoms and I'm nursing a hell of a migraine, but this plot bunny just wouldn't go away.**

 **Shoutout to scorpion-nerdherd and honey41283 on Tumblr for helping me remember details of 3.08 that will help me write parts of this fic. For real. They the real MVPs.**

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It was a very rare day when Paige had the garage to herself.

Without any distractions, she finished her most pressing paperwork earlier than usual and wandered into the kitchen for an apple. The fruit basket was getting severely depleted, which pleased her. Back when she'd insisted on it's existence, she was practically force feeding the geniuses whenever they got too involved in their work to remember to take care of themselves. Walter was the only one that seemed to realize how important eating was during those periods, and even then, he always forgot that that applied to himself. After passing an orange or banana over to Sylvester, he'd bend back over his work, leaving it up to Paige to make sure he ate too.

They'd gotten so much better at replenishing for themselves.

She dropped the core into the trash and headed upstairs to the loft. She'd been up until all hours the previous night, going over and over Walter's planned presentation for Ralph's computer class. Most of the kids in the class – all but Ralph, actually – were not geniuses, and Walter was terrified that he wouldn't be able to make the lecture interesting for them. And, he'd confessed, he was worried about his matter – of – fact personality coming off as condescending. It often did, after all.

So, after at least a dozen run throughs, the two of them agreed that he was ready. By then, it was practically time for Paige to run home and get Ralph up for school. She had gotten two hours of sleep as a gracious estimate and thinking back it was a bit surprising to her how productive she'd been all through the morning. It was definitely catching up to her now.

Easing back the covers on Walter's bed, she made a hmmm noise in the back of her throat at how nice the cool sheets felt. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed out a quick text to Walter. _Call me when you leave the school, please_. This way she could maximize her sleep, rather than potentially setting an alarm for before she had to get up. It was efficient. Walter and Ralph would approve.

She jumped as a vibrating sound came from the desk halfway across the room. Sitting up, Paige craned her neck to see.

 _Well, shit._ Paige opened the alarm app on her phone, double checking the current time and predicting that she'd have about an hour to nap. She lay back down, closing her eyes and sliding one of her arms under the pillow.

What woke her wasn't her alarm, and it certainly wasn't a full hour later. Paige groaned as she pushed up on her arms, glaring over at the desk even though it wasn't the phone's fault that it was ringing. She debated letting it go to voicemail – but it could be Toby, or Happy, or Sly or Cabe, or something work related. She begrudgingly crawled out of the bed and crossed the room.

The ringing stopped by the time she reached it, and a notification had popped up. ' _Missed Call from Mother'._ "That's very, very weird," Paige said aloud. "She never calls him."

The phone began to ring again. _Incoming call from Mother._ Paige hesitated, then figured it must be important. She pressed answer and held the phone to her ear. "Walter's phone." _Walter's phone?_ She rolled her eyes at her formality.

"Paige, darling? Is that you?"

"Hi Louise," she said. "Yeah, it's me. What's goin' on?"

"Is Walter around, hon?"

"No, he's at Ralph's school giving a presentation and left his phone here...is everything okay?" Paige hadn't spoken to Louise but a handful of times, and it'd been a long time since she'd seen her, but she sounded...different. Weak.

"Well, no darling," Louise said quietly. "Things aren't so fine here." There was a long silence, and Paige pulled the phone from her ear and looked down to make sure the call hadn't dropped. She returned it to her ear just in time to hear Louise continue. "Walter's father has passed away."

"Oh my God!" Paige sat on the edge of the desk. "Louise, I'm so sorry, I...when did this happen?"

"Just a few hours ago. He had a heart attack in town. They took him to the hospital but...but there was nothing they could do."

Paige put a hand up into her hair, trying to calculate in her head. Ireland was eight hours ahead, which made it after ten o'clock at night there. "Do you want to call him tomorrow, or would you rather I tell him?"

"I feel like I should be the one to tell him, but I don't want to burden you with keeping it a secret, dear. We are still working on finalizing funeral arrangements but we do know it will be on Friday." She grew quiet. "It'd mean a lot to me if he could be there. You too. I know Sean would want that. If you can."

"Of course," Paige said quickly, before realizing that she honestly had no idea if Walter would want to go. He wasn't close to either of them, and the last time they'd gone to Ireland he'd barely skirted disaster. He and his father had seemed to come to an understanding of sorts before they'd embarked back to the United States, but Paige had thought that they'd had a similar understanding when Megan had passed away, and then the following year had brought back all the same old tensions. "I...I'll tell Walter all about the arrangements. Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

"No, honey. The neighbor is helping me make phone calls to friends and more distant relatives. I do appreciate it, though." She was quiet for a moment. "I do hope that you two can make it."

Paige hesitated. If Walter was going to get too stressed out about being back in his childhood town, she didn't want to pressure him into going. But she could hear in Louise's voice how badly the older woman wanted to see her son. Paige didn't blame her. Louise was only in her late fifties, and she'd already lost a husband and a daughter. Realizing how dry her lips had become, Paige wet them with her tongue and sucked in a breath. "I hope we can too. I'll keep you posted, okay?"

"Thank you. I...I should..."

"Get to bed," Paige said. "It's late there."

"I don't think I'll sleep tonight," she said. "But I'll have to try, I suppose."

"I'm so very sorry."

"Thank you." Walter's mother sighed. "I will speak with you soon."

"Okay."

Paige hung up the phone and held it in her lap, her right leg moving rapidly up and down as her heel tapped against the floor. She hadn't liked Sean much – she couldn't, not when he treated his son with such condescension, judgement, and outright disdain – but he _was_ Walter's father. That didn't necessarily mean anything – Drew was Ralph's father, but Walter did far more to fulfill that role - but it was hard to shake the weight that people tended to place on biology. Cabe did more for Walter on any given day than Sean ever had, but that didn't change the fact that Walter hadn't had the kind of bond that society expected fathers and sons to have. And that didn't change the fact that she knew – she _knew_ – that that hurt him.

She thought about potentially telling him that going to their father's funeral was something that Megan would do – and something that Megan would want him to do. It would probably be a convincing argument, but it felt...wrong. It felt too much like manipulation.

She supposed she could cross that bridge when she came to it – Paige smiled in spite of herself when she remembered the time Happy had misremembered the idiom and had told someone _you can always burn that bridge when you get to it_ – but this wasn't a mere hypothetical that may or may not come to fruition. This was a real conversation she had to have with Walter as soon as he got home.

She remembered having to make the calls herself, at just seventeen years old, when her own father had died. But this was different. She'd been close to _her_ dad, the man who had sacrificed so much for her, to protect her from the pain her mother caused and to do enough parenting for both him and Veronica. He had been a comforting constant in her life that she suddenly had to be without. He was a presence whose absence left a sizeable gap in her heart, and in her routine. Sean's absence – both literal and figurative, had affected Walter greatly, and still did, but he wasn't a person who crossed the genius' mind daily, or even weekly. Life here in L.A. would be no different with Sean O'Brien gone.

Paige's phone buzzed, and she fished it back out of her pocket. It was Sylvester. _Did Walter's mom call him?_ Paige nodded, then realized that that response didn't make sense. She texted back that's she had, _but he left his phone here. If you happen to see him before I do please don't say anything._

 _Do you think he's going to the funeral?_

 _I'm not sure._

She stood up, glancing back at the bed. She wasn't going to get back to sleep. The twenty five minute nap was going to have to be good enough.

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 **Note: there may be one chapter rated M in this fic, but as the overwhelming majority of the word count is going to be T rated, I will probably keep the rating as T as people who go to the M rated stories are generally looking for stories that heavily feature smut and this fic will not. I will include at the top of the chapter that is M rated a note of that for anyone who doesn't want to read it, so if you're looking to avoid any smut, pay attention to my A/Ns.**

 **Reviews are dandy. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Paige busied herself in travel arrangements. They almost never flew when it wasn't for a job, and if Walter did want to go to the funeral, she wanted to make everything other than his father's death easy for him. She wrote down flight numbers, rates, and double checked his budget. There was one flight – with plenty of seats left – that would work perfectly with the schedule.

But she could only go over the same information so many times, and by the time Walter's car appeared through the window, pulling up to the garage, Paige swore there was a rut in the floor.

"Hi, Mom!" Ralph said as they came through the door.

Paige opened her mouth to ask how everything went, but the big grin on her son's face and the way he walked straight over to her and initiated a hug told the story. "Went well, huh?"

"It was great. It was so much fun. Everybody loved him."

Paige lifted her chin, her gaze going from Ralph to Walter. "Did they, now?"

"Yep." Ralph said. "He's going to tell you that he 'was satisfied with the response he got from my classmates.' _I'm_ telling you that they loved him. He's the most popular guest teacher that school has had in a long time."

"Well, good," Paige said, ruffling her son's hair. "Glad to hear it."

"Are you okay?" Walter asked as he hung up his coat on the rack. "You seem a bit distracted."

"I do?"

"Yes. You're shifting your weight and you were wringing your hands when we walked in here. Considering a sizeable part of yesterday was spent assisting me in refining the skills needed to do what I did today, you, being a very goal oriented person, should be extremely focused on learning how your work paid off. But you're not entirely engrossed, which means something else is taking up some of your time. Something important."

"Well..." Paige didn't know why she was frustrated with the fact that Walter had picked up on it. All it was doing was getting her to the news faster, and she certainly didn't want to keep holding onto it. "Actually, there is something else. C – can I talk to you? In...private?"

Walter furrowed his brow. "...sure. Kitchen?"

"No." Paige shook her head. "Upstairs."

He shrugged, in a way that suggested he doubted the seclusion of the loft was necessary but he wasn't going to second guess her. "Okay."

The climb to the loft was a long one. Paige looked down at her feet, watching them take the stairs even though she'd done this thousands of times. Upon reaching the top, she wandered, forward and to the side, not even sure where in the loft she wanted to have this conversation. How does one tell someone that one of their parents are gone?

Walter cocked his head as he noticed the disturbed blankets on the bed, and then he looked at her with something like guilt in his eyes. "You didn't get any sleep last night."

"It's fine," she said. "You said the presentation went well."

"Yes, but..."

"Completely worth it. I promise."

He gave a slow nod. "Okay." Crossing over to the bed, he sank down at the foot of it. "Paige, what's the matter? You look...fretful. Distressed."

"Um..." She shoved her hands in her back pockets as she paced in front of him. "Walter, there's...there's no easy way to say this, but..." She stepped over to the bed and sat down next to him, angling her knees toward his. "Walter, you got a call from Ireland while you were with Ralph. It was your mother. Your father, he...he had a heart attack, and um..." she drew in a breath. "He...he didn't make it."

Walter didn't move. Paige searched his face for signs of a reaction, any reaction, but he stayed completely still. His eyes were trained just past her, but she didn't know if they were focused on anything in particular. She lifted her left hand and gently began to rub his back, scooting a little closer. "Walter?"

"I have to confess," he said, finally, still not looking at her. "I don't know what I was thinking you'd brought me up her to tell me, but it wasn't that."

"I'm sorry." Her hand continued to trail up and down his back.

He folded his hands, resting them between his thighs. "What are the arrangements?"

"They're burying him on Friday. There is a flight leaving L.A. tomorrow evening that would get us there middle of the day on Wednesday."

"Friday." Walter said. "That's a long time."

Of course he'd fixate on how much time would pass between death and burial. That was a known variable. She lowered her head, kissing him gently on the top of his shoulder. "I'm not trying to pressure you into going. Your mom just wanted me to tell you that she would really like to see you, especially right now."

Walter didn't respond for what felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a minute or so when he turned to look at her. "Will you go with me?"

She nodded, sliding her arm around his back and reaching her other one across her body to grab one of his hands. "Of course," she said softly, kissing him on the shoulder again. "I would never make you do this alone."

Walter bit his upper lip. "Thank you."

"Do you want to talk about anything you might be feeling?" She asked gently.

He shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't close to my father. Our relationship was good when it was shaky rather than fractured. I'm surprised, I mean, the life expectancy for men in Ireland is about seventy – eight years, and he is sixty – two. Was. Sixty – two. Rather. But..." he gave a brief shake of his head. "But we weren't close. So..."

"Why don't you stay over tonight?" She suggested, squeezing his hand. "You and Ralph could play his game, you always sleep well in that bed. If we're going to be traveling, you'll want to be rested."

"Is Sylvester coming?"

"I don't know what flight," Paige said, "but yeah, he's going to go."

"Good. My father would like it if he was there. Not that he has any way of knowing, whether or not any of us come." He bit his upper lip, looking back at her. "You'll stay with me, right? If...if everyone..."

There was a painful tug at Paige's heart. Last time they were in Ireland, over eighteen months ago now, she and he had barely been friends. She still hated herself for letting his neighbors bully him and doing almost nothing about it. "I have your back. I promise."

He gave her a fond smile. "I don't deserve you."

It was spoken as a compliment, rather than a statement of self – hatred. Paige smiled back. "Yes you do," she said, matter of factly, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "I'm going to go make some tea for Ralph so he can fight off that bug that's been flirting with his immune system since Sunday. He's got those midterms end of the week. Do you want some?"

"Just let me change and I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay." She squeezed his hand again before standing up and heading for the stairs.

Ralph was standing near the bottom of them, looking worried. "Mom, is everything okay?"

She knew that look in his eyes. He'd been thrilled when she and Walter had decided to be together. But with that high came the potential of a crash, and whenever he witnessed or knew about the two of them talking in low voices, in private, he worried that something was wrong. Paige fought down the anger at Drew that always bubbled up to the surface whenever she was forced to think about how insecure her son was in this respect.

She ran a hand through her son's hair. "Walter's father Sean passed away. It was a heart attack."

"Cardiac events are the leading cause of death for adult men in Ireland," Ralph said immediately.

Thirteen years with this boy, almost four years of knowing Walter and just shy of ten months of being with him romantically, and while Paige had come to expect statistics such as these and life expectancies to be rattled off when given bad news, she wasn't sure she would ever fully get used to it. "Yeah, well," she said, "Sean was quite the conformist." She looked up the stairs, then back at her son. "Walter and I are going to go to Ireland for a few days for his funeral. "I talked to Cabe on the phone and he said he'd be happy to stay at our place so you won't be alone and will have a familiar environment to study in."

Ralph nodded. "Okay. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow. We'll be back on Saturday. Sylvester is going to go too, so Scorpion will be closed for business during that time. Anything small that comes up, Happy and Toby will be able to handle."

"And me."

"Midterms," Paige reminded him, an eyebrow raised playfully. "I'm gonna go make some tea for you."

"Thank you. Mom?"

She was already turned toward the kitchen. She pivoted back to face him. "Yeah?"

Ralph was staring up toward the loft. "Is Walter okay?"

Paige pushed her hands into her pockets. She honestly didn't know. What he said made sense – it was surprising given his father's age, but they probably weren't close enough for the death to really hurt. But his silence, the stillness...it was out of character for him. "I think so, Ralph. He just needs to process it all."

"Is he going to sleep over tonight?" Ralph looked hopeful. Paige knew the boy adored when Walter spent nights at the condo. Paige did too – for the same reason. It made it all feel extra real.

"Yeah, he is. I told him maybe you guys could play your game."

"Yes. We'll help him, Mom."

Paige smiled. "Yeah, we will, baby."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. (Especially to you reviewers, to a fic writer, reviews are our payment and our food source.) I had this entire fic outlined and about half written when I started publishing it, so unless my health takes a nosedive again, this whole fic should be wrapped up by the end of the week.**

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"Man, I'm not used to flying like this," Paige said, trying to stretch her legs in the tiny space between her seat and the one in front of her.

"You said that on the first flight," Walter commented.

She had. But she hadn't thought he'd heard her because he hadn't responded, not with so much as a grunt or a brief glance in her direction. She took a lighthearted approach for her response. "Well, seems like I haven't gotten used to it in the first five hours. Or while waiting for this flight."

"At least for once," Walter said, "we're flying to a place where the world won't be counting on us. And," he gave a small chuckle, "I think lakes can only blow up once."

"Is the lake still there?" Paige asked. She was glad he was talking. He'd been awfully silent so far. Sylvester, while more outwardly distressed at Sean's death, was much chattier, and their randomly assigned seats had put him just across the aisle from them while they were headed to Newark. Unfortunately, for this flight, he was nine rows behind them.

"Yeah," Walter said. "I'm with you. I don't want any more of those problems. I'll have enough to deal with, with Thomas and Connor."

"They didn't learn."

"They'll be bullies until the day they die," Walter said.

"You save their damn lives, and nothing."

"It never lasts," Walter said. "Any headway anyone makes with them ultimately dwindles back down to nothing." His face took on a more solemn expression. Paige touched his hand.

"Don't think about them. They're not worth it."

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Paige was surprised at how familiar the road to the O'Brien home was, as well as the unpleasant feeling she got as they approached it. She wondered if something present was bothering her, or if she was just thinking about last time.

The house came into view, and almost immediately, the front door opened and a figure appeared. She was smaller than Paige remembered.

Sylvester breathed a sigh of relief. "She's okay."

Paige frowned. "Were you worried?"

"I mean, the two of them had been together since she was fifteen. That's over forty years, and a sudden death...sometimes the surviving spouse takes a turn for the worse. She assured me she was feeling okay when I called her on the layover, but..."

As soon as they'd exited the vehicle, Louise rushed toward them, moving quickly. She was pale and tired, with circles under her red eyes. When she reached Walter, she rose on her tiptoes, throwing her arms around him and rocking gently from side to side. "My son."

"Hi, mother," Walter said. He was hugging her back. Paige was glad.

"Oh, my boy," she said again, leaning back and taking his face in her hands. "Let me look at you. It's been almost two years now. Quite a long time."

"It was far longer before that," Walter pointed out. Paige nudged him.

"Paige. Darling." Louise held her arms out, and Paige returned the embrace. "I haven't seen you in just as long. Oh, you were with that broad shouldered man then. Quite the chancer, wasn't he?"

Paige raised her eyebrows at Walter in question. He didn't explain to her what his mother meant, but the smirk on his face told her enough.

"And my dear Sylvester," she said fondly.

"Hi, Mom," Sylvester said, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her cheek. "How are you holding up?"

"I _am_ ," she said. "I got to."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Paige said, putting a hand on Louise's arm.

"Thank you, darling," Louise said. "But I must say it does feel good to see you all again. I wish you had brought Ralph," she commented. "He's such a good boy."

"He wishes he could come," Paige said. "But he has midterms this week. And he's nursing a cold."

"Poor boy," Louise said. "Examinations and an illness. Shame. I would have liked to see him very much."

Paige pushed down the twinge of annoyance. She knew Louise wasn't trying to make her feel guilty. Walter's mother had never struck her as that type of person.

"Come on in," she said, gesturing toward the house. "The other folks from out of town are staying at the Inn a mile up the road. They say they don't want to be a bother."

"We weren't planning on staying here," Paige said quickly. "I know there are some places in town, we're not here to make things more difficult or..."

"Aw, go way outta that," Louise said. "Of course you'll stay here. I just lost my dear husband. It's good to be with family, and in any case, not every day I get to see my son and son – in – law."

"And Paige," Walter said pointedly.

"Walter, I know what she meant," Paige said gently. She wasn't family. Walter and Sylvester were. Of course she was happier to see them.

"Sylvester, I thought you could stay in Megan's old room. I know she'd like that, and Walter would probably rather have his old one. Did you ever see it, Paige?"

"No," she said. "I haven't."

"It's much the same as it was when he left for America," she said. "His things are all cleaned up, but he's got his blueprints on the wall still, and the desk. We put a double bed in there for when company came over, but other than that, it's just as it was."

"Oh, well that's nice," Paige said.

"Please," Louise said, gesturing to the kitchen table. "Sit. Tobin's daughter made some stew for me. Let me heat it up. You three must be starving."

"If we're going to stay here," Walter said, "I'm going to go to the car and get the bags. It looks like it might rain."

"It's been looking like it's about to rain for a week," Louise said.

"Still." Walter tapped the back of Paige's chair as he scooted by, heading for the front door.

Louise watched as Walter exited the house, then she turned back to Paige and Sylvester, the container of stew clutched between her hands. "You know," she began, hesitating slightly. "It's very emotional for me to see you. Both of ya."

"I know it's a terrible time," Sylvester said. "I wish we had visited under better circumstances."

"Oh Sylvester," she said, smiling at him. "That's very sweet of you, and I do agree. But what I mean is..." She paused. "When Meg and Walter were young, I used to pray. I mean, I still do. We are Catholics. But I used to pray for them. I'd pray that each find someone who was good for them. Good to them. That they'd feel happy and safe with. Every mother does, you know, wish that for their children. And we all have high standards. Immeasurably high. The Mount Everest of standards."

Paige was glad Walter had left the house. He would surely pipe up that Mount Everest had been measured exactly.

Louise had paused again, wetting her lips before continuing. "And..." she shook her head. "You two are beyond my wildest hopes. My family is so blessed. I thank God every day, that Megan had you, Sylvester. And that you and my son found each other, Paige. So, so blessed."

Paige found it incredible that Louise could say that two days after her husband's death and having already lost her daughter. But she supposed she understood. She would rather have Ralph happy for less time than miserable or lonely for longer. She caught Sylvester's eye. He was smiling. A somewhat sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"I didn't specify back there that it wasn't every day I got to see you, darling. Walter called me out. I hadn't met to exclude you."'

Paige waved her hand. "Don't think another moment about it, Mrs. O'Brien."

"No, I should." She reached out and took Paige's hand. "You're family too, dear. And don't you be playing around with names like Mrs. O'Brien. Please, call me Mum. Or at least Louise."

"Okay," Paige said, smiling. "I will."

"Good. Now," Louise turned to a jar on the counter and popped off the top. "Do either of you want a lollipop?"

Paige gave an amused chuckle at how quickly she'd changed paths.

"I'll take one," Sylvester said.

"I am still going to heat up that stew," Louise said. "But Sean got a bunch of these for me at the shop last week, and I know I will never eat them all. Come, Paige," she said holding out the jar. "Take one."

Paige did, undoing the wrapper and popping the candy into her mouth. It was cotton candy flavored. It looked as if Sylvester had gotten cream soda.

"How _is_ Walter doing, anyway?" Louise said. "I know that he and Sean didn't have the kind of relationship that normal boys and their fathers do. To tell the truth, I was afraid that he wouldn't come. I was a bit selfish in those thoughts. I told myself I wanted him to come mostly because I think a boy should be at his father's funeral, but in reality, I'd have been devastated if he hadn't come because who knows whenever I would see him again. I suppose I'll need to ask for forgiveness for my selfishness. But it is lonely in this house, and I've only been by myself for two days."

Paige was going to open her mouth and say that Walter would say there was nothing to forgive. Then she realized Louise didn't mean her son. "I, uh...I don't know how he is doing, in this respect," Paige said. "But he did want to come. I didn't have to work at him."

Louise gave a small smile as she nodded. "I'm glad. Ah, there y'are, Walter!" she said as her son reappeared. "Do you want a lollipop? These things are all the rage in America, aren't they?"

Paige noticed an uncomfortable look on Walter's face, and before she could open her mouth to ask him what was wrong, there was a sound like the front door slamming, followed by two loud voices. "Walter! Come on, we were just jesting with you. Why do you take everything so personally?"

 _Thomas and Connor._

"Uh," Sylvester said, "I think we should be getting our stuff up to the rooms."

Connor popped his head into the kitchen. "Ah, there he is!" He slung an arm around Walter's shoulders. "He couldn't carry in all the bags by himself."

"I was going to make two trips," Walter said, his jaw set.

"Boys, please don't be slamming doors," Louise said. "You're likely to knock them off the hinges."

"Ah, look at this," Thomas said, coming around the corner. "The Americans. Your bags are in the foyer, wimp," he said to Walter before turning back to the table. "I remember you," he said to Sylvester. "Megan's husband. We liked Megan's husband, didn't we, Connor?"

"I believe we did," the other man responded. "He wasn't quite as much of a dry shite as this one here."

"And look what we have here," Thomas said, folding his arms and taking Paige in. "Lollipop. Connor, do you see what she's got there?"

"I do."

"You know what they say," Thomas said to Paige. "The way a woman handles a lollipop is indicative of how she'd handle my langer."

Paige didn't need to ask what a langer was. Staring straight at Thomas, she put the lollipop back into her mouth. Biting down, she heard and felt the candy break into a dozen pieces between her molars, and she dragged the paper stick back out through her teeth, studied the mangled remains for a moment while she chewed, then turned back to Thomas. "Is that so?"

There was complete silence in the kitchen. Walter and Louise's eyes were saucers. They'd never looked more alike.

Thomas shifted uncomfortably, then glanced at Connor. "Ah..."

"We gotta go," Connor said. And then they were gone, as quickly as they'd come bursting into the house.

Louise folded her arms, looking amused. "Yes," she said. "You're _definitely_ family."


	4. Chapter 4

When Walter told Paige that he was going to take a walk, go to Megan's stone, she asked if he wanted her to come along. She was a bit surprised at how quickly he said no.

When he left, she wandered through the house. Louise had excused herself to run into town to make sure all of Sean's monthly subscriptions were stopped. "It's so overwhelming, all the things you have to remember to do," she'd commented. Paige had offered to come with her. "No, darling, thank you, but he's my husband. I want to take care of his things on my own."

Paige understood. She'd been the same way when her father died; she'd just wanted any measure of control.

When Louise left, she washed the dishes from their stew meal, and cleaned the countertops and table. Then she mopped the floor, although it seemed like it had just been done. She wondered if it was a confirmation that Louise hadn't slept the night of Sean's death.

Sylvester was in the living room, a photo album on the coffee table. As Paige sank down next to him, she noticed that all the pages seemed to be baby and toddler photos of Megan.

Sylvester looked at her. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Are you okay? You seem a little aimless."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I did some house chores. Place is pretty clean."

"I can't imagine what she's going through right now. We all lost Megan. You're not supposed to bury your child. And then just a couple years later, she loses her husband, which, I mean, given that she's younger than him and women are expected to live longer, she would have probably expected this would come eventually, but...I don't know how she's doing it. I hope she has people that she can talk to, here."

Paige folded her arms. "And if she does, I hope she actually does talk to them."

Sylvester flipped to the last page in the photo album – photos that included a three year old Megan holding a tiny baby in her arms and sometimes grinning broadly at the camera, sometimes kissing the baby's forehead. Paige smiled.

"It's crazy to think about how much of their lives they lived before us. How many things that happened that we'll never know about because they don't even remember, or they just don't think to tell us."

Paige stiffened, and Sylvester looked at her again, furrowing his brow. "Paige, _what's the matter_?"

"I'm just a little frustrated."

"With Walter?"

"No..." Paige shrugged. "I mean yes, but not in the way that I want to yell at him. I just..." She leaned back against the couch. "You know what, Sly? Don't worry about it. This man was your father – in – law. You need to focus on you, and on Louise, not on me feeling sorry for myself."

"No," Sylvester said, reaching over and grabbing her hand. "How many times have you listened to me? I want to listen to you."

Paige sighed. "I guess I'm frustrated because Walter won't open up to me about this. He's acting differently. This _bothers him_. And he keeps brushing me off when I try to get him to talk about it." She pulled her knees up to her chest. "I love him so much, and I want him to feel comfortable talking about these sorts of things with me." She hesitated. "He used to worry that he wasn't good enough for me. But if I'm not being that person for him, then I'm the one who isn't measuring up. I want to put as much effort into the relationship as I know he does, and we go, Sly. We go so well together. But a relationship is work, and this...this is clearly one of the areas that I still need to work on. But I don't know how."

Sylvester was silent, then shifted his weight so he faced her as well as he could with them both sitting on the couch. "Paige, I've known Walter since I was a teenager. And I can't say I know him better than you, at least not anymore, but I do know that he trusts you above anyone else on the planet. You remember that when Megan passed away, he pretended he was fine for over a month. And when he did break, he broke on you. His sister was the most important person in his life and he grieved her in your arms." He squeezed her hand. "Maybe he still hasn't worked out how he's feeling. He can't tell you what he doesn't know. But when he does figure it out, I'm sure he would tell you before anyone else."

* * *

A small smile played over Sylvester's face as he walked up behind Walter. "I thought I might find you out here."

He didn't turn around. "I didn't lie about where I was going. I told my mother and Paige I was going to walk over here."

And Paige had told him, but Sylvester didn't think that Walter needed to know that. Hecame to a stop next to the older man, and they stood in silence, staring down at the stone. "Walt?" Sylvester asked after a moment as he glanced at him, feeling nervous. "We're brothers, right?"

Walter looked confused. "Well, yes."

"So me expressing concern for you is not out of line, then."

"No, I wouldn't say it would be out of line," Walter said. "Though I must confess I'm not sure why you would be concerned about me."

"Well...it's Paige."

"Paige." Walter looked worried. "You're concerned about Paige?"

"No, she's concerned about you. She can tell that you're having trouble dealing with this - and don't tell me you're not, Walter, I know you – and she's upset that you aren't talking to her about it. She just wants to be there for you."

Walter was quiet, looking down at his feet. "She is. She doesn't realize how much she already helps me."

"She's normal, Walter," Sylvester said. "She thinks of these things in the way that she would respond to them. She would have so many feelings swarming around in her head, and she'd be desperate for someone she could confide in. She's gone so long without having someone like that that she's developed the ability to go without – and sometimes she genuinely believes she doesn't want to talk about things when they bother her. But deep down, she wants a person like that. And she has you. You're that person for her and she wants to be that person for you." He pointed to the stone in front of them. "Meg was...Meg was that person for me."

Walter stayed silent. "Look, you don't have to tell me what you're feeling or why you are or are not talking to Paige about it," Sylvester said. "I just know she's worried and she doesn't know how to help you. So if you're needing her to help you, as difficult as it may be, I think you need to take the initiative and tell her."

There was another long silence, and Sylvester decided not to say anything more. He didn't like meddling in Walter and Paige's relationship, especially when it wasn't in trouble. But he missed Megan. He missed her terribly, despite the fact that they had loved each other without reservation and without regret. He knew it was more difficult – much, much, much more difficult – for Walter to understand what he was feeling than it was for him. But he'd give anything to have Megan at his side when he struggled. Walter had Paige. She wasn't going anywhere. And Sylvester knew very well that when grieving, having someone you love to lean on was an invaluable resource.

They stood together in silence for a long time, until the shadows grew long and the sky developed the orange tinge that signaled sunset. Then Sylvester kissed his fingers, leaned forward to touch them to the stone, and turned to begin the walk back to the house.

* * *

"Walter, it's so late," Paige said as he appeared through the bedroom door, disappointed at how much scolding came through in her tone. "If I didn't know where you were I'd have been so worried."

"I'm sorry." He closed the door, frowning. "I'd forgotten there's no lock on this thing."

"Walter, I'm serious. It was all I could do to not come after you."

"I just needed some time alone," he said, crossing the small room and sitting on the end of the bed, tugging off his socks. "With Megan. I...I know she's not there. But for some reason...it feels nice to be at her memorial. It's like the beach back home, because we used to go there."

Paige sat next to him, rubbing his back like she had back at the garage. "Memorials can carry a lot of weight. It makes perfect sense."

"I still miss her," he said. "She was such a constant in my life. I never had to doubt her. I could be myself around her, I..." He shook his head. "I was raised here. Everyone here is Catholic, and I don't even believe in God." He looked at her. "Paige, I know that you do. But I just think it's all a sham, designed to manipulate people into behaving the way the people in power want. But it's times like these that I wish it was all real, because then I'd know she's looking over me, and I know that I'd see her again. But I won't." He looked at her. "I hope that when I speak of how important she is to me, you don't think that takes away from how I feel about you."

"No, Walter, no," she said, her hand still on his back, her other hand coming up to rub his arm reassuringly. "You know that Ralph is the most important person in my life. That doesn't mean I wouldn't do anything for you. That doesn't mean I can't tell you that I love you with all my heart. It doesn't mean that I can't be terrified of ever losing you, on a job or otherwise. Humans have an incredible capacity for love, and for grief, and for every feeling in existence. And we're all human."

He smiled at her, then cleared his throat. "I should go to the bathroom and get changed for bed."

Paige watched him go. He hadn't said a word about his father. But he was starting to open up again. It was a start.

When he came to bed, she scooted to the side, giving him room. "Is this okay?" She asked, sliding her hand across his stomach. When they'd first gotten together, she'd been pleasantly surprised to learn that he loved cuddling, loved wrapping her up in his arms or getting wrapped up in hers when they slept. But he'd been acting so non responsive the past few days, she wasn't sure if he would want so much contact tonight. But he nodded in response to her question, and she moved in close to him.

* * *

 **Next chapter is going to have a full blown heart to heart. It should be up tomorrow.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yes, I'm updating fast, that's what happens when ya girl has a healthy streak and when the Daylight Savings messes her up and she can't sleep but whatever. (The reviews are flying in now, guys, y'all are making me so damn happy.)**

 **Note:** **this chapter has smut** **, but if you don't want to read that, I'd recommend reading the first part of this chapter because there's important plot, Walter/Sean stuff in it. I don't surprise you with the smut, you'll know when it's coming and you can vacate the chapter if needed.**

 **Happy Scorpion Monday, y'all.**

* * *

Paige hated to burden Louise. She was dressed in all black, rummaging through her purse, a stack of papers on the table next to her. She knew the older woman had a full day's worth of things to do before the following morning's funeral, and she didn't want to hold her up, even a little bit. But it had taken hours for Paige to fall asleep, the tossing and turning from the man beside her keeping her awake until after two in the morning. And then she'd woken up to find herself alone. "Hey, Louise?" Louise located something in her purse, shifting it to a smaller pocket, then began rifling through the papers. Paige tried a different tactic, walking closer. "Mum?"

Louise looked up. Her face was a combination of sad and stressed, but part of that melted away as Walter's mother put on her brave face. "Paige, my darling."

"I don't want to bother you," she said. "But...do you know where Walter is?"

"I'm sorry, I don't. He told me he was going out. Ask Sylvester. He's going with me today but Walter may have said something to him."

"Yeah, good idea, thank you." Paige had already texted him. He had no idea where Walter was.

"I need to be going," she said. "You'll be all right, dear?"

Paige didn't even think Louise inquiring that was strange, even though she was the one who had the most on her plate. Louise was a mother. She always gave to others, even when she herself was distressed. And that was something Paige understood.

* * *

He wasn't at Megan's stone. Paige was surprised. She knew he had been there yesterday, but she thought if he was to leave the house without telling anyone, he would go to the place he felt the closest to her. She could see the footprints from where he and Sylvester had stood the night before, but there was no evidence that he'd even been here.

Paige gazed down at the stone. It was weathered – it had been out in the elements for over a year and a half – and there was the tiniest of chips on the middle of the left side. But the lettering stood out just as bold as it had been the day the stone was laid.

A breeze picked up, and Paige looked to the sky, hoping that it wasn't going to rain, not when she didn't know where Walter was. There weren't many clouds in the sky.

She turned and headed down another path, another idea forming in her mind.

* * *

"Walter."

She softly called his name as she approached, not wanting to startle him.

On the way over to Ireland, she'd asked if the pond was still in good order. She hadn't seen it before, but it certainly didn't seem like the source of so much drama two years before.

Walter was sitting on the bank, and he kept staring forward as she lowered herself next to him. "Hey."

"Hey," he said. He turned his head to her and gave a small smile.

"How you doing?"

He shrugged.

"Do you want to talk at all?" Paige asked. "About anything. We can talk about anything."

He turned back to face the pond and let out a long sigh. "He wasn't supposed to be gone already."

Paige pressed her lips together. "I know. I'm sorry, Walter. I'm so sorry."

"You know how much I tell Ralph that biology doesn't matter. How much I...how much I tell him that. And I love Cabe. And Cabe loves me as his own son but...but Sean O'Brien will always be the one who fathered me. He will always be the one that raised me. And..."

He was struggling. Paige put a hand on his back as he drew in a shaky breath. "Take your time."

"On the plane," Walter said, "I told you that with Thomas and Connor, any bit of progress made with them just deteriorates instantly. You know it was the same with my father. Every time I thought he'd begun to accept me, to truly appreciate me even though I wasn't what he wanted, next time I'd have anything to do with him, it all had dissipated."

Paige nodded.

"But when he was alive..." Walter continued, "all those times that things didn't change, but no matter how many times nothing happened, there was always a chance. A chance that maybe next time, it would be different. A chance that maybe one day, he would really love me for who I am, instead of in spite of it." Walter drew in another shaky breath. "As long as we live, there's always that chance." He turned to look at her. "That's what made me keep believing in us. Even when you were seeing someone else." He looked back out at the lake. "But now...with my dad...that chance is gone. Forever. I don't know that we ever would have grown close. But...but..." he drew in a labored breath. "But there was always a chance. Before. And now the way we left things the last time is the way things will be left forever. I'll...I'll never get to look at him and be happy instead of tense and uncomfortable. And..." his voice cracked. " _And it's so hard to accept_."

Paige bit her lip, blinking away the tears that had sprung to her eyes. Walter wasn't grieving because he missed his father. Walter was grieving because he'd now lost the chance for something he'd wanted his entire life. No matter how slim that chance had been. "Walter," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Love."

He leaned against her, his head on her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his hair because it was what she could reach. A hundred feet in front of them, a fish leapt from the water.

After a while, he lifted his head, looking at her. "Thank you," he said.

"Always."

He reached up, tucking hair behind her ear. She leaned forward, touching her lips to his reassuringly. He scooted closer, sliding an arm around her waist, and she kissed him again.

He kissed her back fiercely, desperately, his hands curling around the bottom of her shirt. Paige kissed him back, cradling his head gently in her hands. He slid a hand under her shirt and around to her back, tugging her slightly closer. "Paige," he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"I'm here," she said, knowing he knew but wanting to reassure. She slid a hand back to run through his hair, then back over his jaw. She kissed him again. "I'm here."

"Paige," he said again between kisses, his breathing coming harder. "I..." His hand was trailing up and down her back, and she understood. "I need you."

"Not here," she said, pulling back slightly and putting a hand on his chest. She glanced in the direction of the house, then back at him, seeing the desperation on his face. "Come on." Grabbing his hand, she stood up, and he followed her, clutching her hand as if it was a lifeline.

She felt a tug on her hand when he stopped after a few feet. "Just..." She turned, looking at him curiously, and he pulled her back toward him, kissing her again and then wrapping his arms around her, holding her close against him and burying his face in her hair. She stood there quietly in his arms, letting him gather strength from their closeness. She could feel the heat from his breath and she reached up, stroking the back of his neck. "Come on."

When they reached the empty house, she let him lead her upstairs, to his childhood bedroom, even though she knew the way. There wasn't a lock on the door, and despite the fact that there was no one else around, Walter set their luggage in front of it, as if to form a barricade. Paige stood near the bed, watching him, waiting, and when he was satisfied with the arrangement of the luggage, he crossed the small room, sliding his arms around her waist and putting his mouth on hers again. She kissed him back tenderly. The idea of making love to Walter in the room he grew up in wasn't something that would have crossed her mind – or agreed to – in happier circumstances, but she understood his need for intimacy, for reassurance of her love, for something familiar and safe.

He slowly began to unbutton her shirt, starting at the bottom, and she started on his buttons from the top, gently pushing it off of his shoulders and running her hands slowly, soothingly over the newly exposed skin.

With all her buttons undone, Walter's hands fumbled at the hook on her bra, and Paige was grateful that she'd happened to wear one that unhooked in the front. Undoing the hook, Walter bent, kissing her on her cleavage, his hands on her hips, and she slid both hands into his hair as he moved to place wet kisses on one of her breasts. When his mouth locked around her nipple, Paige closed her eyes, tipping her head back and sighing. She'd thought this would mostly involve her loving on him.

He moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention, and she slid a hand down, out of his hair, running over as much of his shoulder and back that she could reach, opening her eyes to gaze lovingly down at him. His mouth formed a suction around her nipple and she bit her lip, the sensations he was creating shooting straight downward. Her eyes closed again, and she made a concentrated effort not to make any noise, still aware that they were in his childhood bedroom, guilty that she was letting him pleasure her when it was him that needed comfort, and worried – although she knew it was impossible – that someone would hear her.

Thankfully, only a few more seconds passed before Walter straightened up, pushing her opened shirt and bra off of her shoulders. He cradled her head in his hands and was panting slightly, his lips right next to hers. Paige glanced down and reached to undo the button on his pants. Walter grunted in relief as she undid the zipper and pushed them and his boxers down in one move. He was ready, but she stroked him, feeling the nails on his hands press into the back of her head as he groaned softly.

She slid her hand down the length of him and began to massage with her thumb, and Walter's breath hitched against her lips, his breathing growing heavier. His hands slid down to her shoulders and gripped them, his forehead resting against hers. "Bed," he said after another minute, and she released him, kissing him once more before undoing her jeans and stepping out of them and her underwear, then stepping backward and crawling onto the bed. He joined her, kissing her again, and she eased him onto his back and straddled him. She reached down between them, pushing him up toward his stomach and lowering herself just behind him. Pushing her hips forward, Paige pinned his shaft between their bodies and slowly began to grind along the length of him. Walter's eyes fell closed and he made a sound that would have sounded pained to someone who didn't know him. " _God_." Paige smiled. She liked doing this, teasing him this way, letting him get a feel her heat and her wetness. It drove him crazy, and if he ever needed to be taken to another place, it was today.

He stared upward, panting, fingers pressed into the mattress and eyes locked on hers. She looked down at him. She normally tried to look seductive when she was doing this, but she knew the expression on her face right now was loving. She could tell by the look on his face that it was exactly what he needed.

Paige lifted her hips and positioned herself just above him as she reached forward and ran the pad of her thumb over one of his nipples. She lowered herself slightly, allowing him to enter her shallowly before lifting her hips again. Walter grunted as she did it again, then finally sank onto him, letting him surround her completely. They both groaned quietly, and both of his hands found both of hers, their fingers linking. She circled her hips, slowly, closing her eyes. It still surprised her, how well they did this, how in tune they were with each other and how good it all felt. She liked this best, when she was full of all of him and they moved this way.

"I love you so much," he said, and squeezed his hands and opened her eyes to gaze down at him as she continued to move her hips in a circular motion. "I love you too," she said. "I love you immensely. And I love _this_."

"Mmmm." Walter's eyes were half closed, his lips parted slightly as he continued to breathe through his mouth. It had been a few minutes, so Paige rose up, lifting almost completely off of him before lowering herself all the way back down in one smooth motion. His eyes closed the rest of the way and he groaned quietly. "Paige, switch."

He wanted control. She didn't blame him. She lifted herself up again, swinging her leg back over. He sat up, pushing her gently onto her back and lowering himself between her knees. He reached down, parting her folds with his fingers and pushing one inside. He always liked to do this first, to feel how wet she was, to reassure him that her body craved him as much as his did her. He stroked her a couple of times, making her whine, and then removed his hand, parting her again and nudging the tip of him inside. Moving forward and balancing on both hands, he pushed the rest of the way in, dropping down to rest on his elbows and putting his lips back on hers as he began to move his hips in long, deep thrusts.

Paige wrapped her legs around him, hooking her ankles, and ran her hands over his back, scratching lightly because she knew he liked when she did that. He hummed into her mouth, changing the angle of his thrusts so his shaft brushed along her clit, making her clench around him and whimper against his lips.

After less than two minutes, his thrusts became faster, more forceful, and she wasn't surprised. She had teased him quite significantly, and he was desperate for her. He lifted up off of her, giving enough room for his hand, and he reached down between them.

She caught his hand. "No," she said, shaking her head gently. "Go ahead."

Walter looked down at her, concerned, she reached up, sliding her hand around the back of his neck and applying pressure, encouraging him back down. When he did lower himself and was within reach, Paige kissed him tenderly, putting her legs back around his hips and tightening around him as he began to thrust again, making his stomach muscles clench. "Come for me, Love," she whispered in his ear.

His thrusts grew faster again, harder, and he tore his lips away from hers, panting hard against her neck, and she tightened again, again, timing it, feeling her own tension beginning to build but trying not to focus on it as he was so far ahead of her, this was about him and she loved him and she wanted him to let go and she whispered in his ear how good he felt inside her, lightly scratching his scalp and moaning softly against his earlobe. His pace increased again, his breathing louder, and she asked him again to finish. He grunted, biting her shoulder lightly, something he hadn't ever done before. He grunted again, his shoulders stiffening, and the pressure of his teeth on her shoulder increased as he continued to pump his hips.

Another sound escaped his lips, and this time it betrayed frustration. Paige recognized what was happening. He was teetering on the edge, desperate for a release, and yet he couldn't. He groaned again, and she put her hands on his shoulders. "Walter, stop."

He did – immediately – and lifted up on his arms, looking down at her. "I'm sorry," he panted, his face looking pained. "I'm sorry."

He misunderstood. He wasn't hurting her.

Walter shifted his weight, pulling out of her and sitting back on his knees. His chest was heaving, his expression strained, and she could see he was still painfully hard. She looked at him sympathetically. As much as he needed this, the weight of his father's death, and his conflicting feelings about it, were hanging too heavily over him and preventing him from fully getting out of his head.

She sat up, reaching out and rubbing his thighs. The she took the base of him in her hand and lowered her head, wrapping her lips around him and sinking down. Walter groaned as she took him in, and his hands came up to rest on her shoulders. Paige dropped again, all the way down, and hollowed out her cheeks as she came back up, eliciting another loud groan. She continued slowly, because she'd come to learn that when doing this, it was the slow that really got him.

"Oh...Paige..." Walter gasped quietly as she locked her lips around his head and swirled her tongue before immediately going back down. She ran a hand up over his stomach, wanting to feel his muscles clench in response to her. She hollowed her cheeks again, sucking hard and staying right where she was, around every inch of him, and he shuddered, his hands tightening their grip on her shoulders. Paige released him completely when she came up, running her tongue around his head before dropping again. She kept going, keeping to the slow pace, feeling him tremble and hoping that this would work.

After a minute or so, he gently pushed at her, and she came up, looking at him curiously. He pulled her up to him, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her soundly before guiding her back onto her back and pushing back inside her. She welcomed it, her body still unsatisfied and, by now, craving him every bit as much as he was her. He began rocking his hips again, and they moaned against each other's mouths.

Paige was still preoccupied with concern for him, of wanting him to be able to finish, but God, did he feel good. She murmured his name when their lips briefly separated, and he dropped his lips to her neck, where she could feel his hot breath as he increased their tempo. _Come on, Love._ Paige's hand squeezed into the space between them, rubbing a nipple again and then pinching it lightly between her fingers as she lowered her head to his neck, finding the spot on his neck and sucking, running her tongue over the skin and flicking it with the tip as her lips released. Her lips returned to his ear, her voice in a whisper, "I want you to come inside me," and the words must have done something because he groaned in response, picking up the pace, almost to the tempo they were at before. She almost never spoke like that. Walter found it ridiculous for her to state such obvious things. They were having sex, it didn't make sense to him for her to tell him that because why _wouldn't_ she want him to finish? And where else _would_ he do so? But today she would try just about anything to get him over; it was one thing to tease, it was another to watch him struggle like this, painfully close to the edge and unable to fall. "Walter," she whispered, tightening around him again, feeling him pump into her with more force. "Walter." This time it was a whimper. She rolled his nipple between her fingers, her other hand continuing to run through his hair, and she dropped her lips back to his neck, hoping that so much stimulation would do it.

It did. Walter choked out her name as his thrusts grew suddenly erratic and he pushed all the way in, groaning loudly against her neck. His whole body shuddered, almost violently so, and he went limp on top of her. He drew in a loud breath and groaned again, slightly quieter this time. Paige ran her hands soothingly over his back, feeling him twitching inside her and breathing a sigh of relief at the evidence of the intensity of his climax, one that was probably worth all the struggle to achieve.

"Oh my God," he managed.

"I've got you," she whispered. "I love you so much."

"Oh my God," he gasped again.

"Breathe, Love," she said gently, a tiny part of her adding _so you can get off me_ silently to the end of that sentence, because there was no way _she_ could properly catch her breath while bearing the entirety of his weight. She continued to rub his back, one hand coming up to trail through his hair, and she whispered to him again, reminding him that she was there and that everything was going to be okay.

And she focused on the slight difficulty that she found when she tried to draw breath, because it was a distraction from something far more unpleasant. The extra time it had taken had brought her closer to the edge herself, and now she was frustrated. She could practically feel her heartbeat between her legs as her clit throbbed painfully. He was still inside her, and her body didn't seem to notice or care that he had finished. When Walter finally lifted himself up and slipped out of her as he moved to lay on his side, every nerve in the area he'd vacated went into full protest mode. Paige hoped that her quiet, involuntary grunt of dissatisfaction was lost on him.

She honestly didn't think he heard it, but as emotionally wrung out as Walter was – and as exhausted as he was – he could _tell_ that she needed to be satisfied. Normally, when he finished ahead of her, he used his hand or his mouth to bring her over, but she could tell that he was too tired for that, the slight fatigue that usually came over him afterwards exacerbated by the long trip, his emotional turmoil, and the extra effort it had just taken his body to release. Paige kissed him. She could go in the shower and finish with her hand when he fell asleep. Today wasn't a day she could expect him to work too hard on her.

"I love you," he mumbled as he kissed her back. "Thank you." His hand traced over her hip, and Paige tried not to whimper at his touch. She kept her hands where they were, fighting the urge to slip one between her legs and give herself the relief she needed. _Wait for him to fall asleep. This is about him._

But then Walter got up, walking across the room to her luggage and unzipping a pocket on the side. Paige cocked her head, confused, until he stood up again, a small, three inch hot pink object in his hand.

Ah. She'd started keeping it in the duffel when their main bathroom had needed remodeling and Ralph started to use hers.

Walter climbed back onto the bed next to her and clicked the button on the end of the vibrator three times, resting on his side next to her and setting it on the mattress as he reached between her legs with his hand, running his fingers up her slit. Paige's right knee fell to the side, toward him, and he removed his hand, using his fingers to coat the vibrator before he kissed her on the lips and pressed the device against her clit.

She felt the effects immediately, closing her eyes and resting her head against the pillow as he looked down at her. "Ooooh." A hand lightly trailed through his hair, enjoying the sensations that slowly grew more intense and began to spread throughout her body. "Whew." Her mouth fell open when she needed more oxygen than she could get through her nose, and she let out a quiet groan on the exhale. Walter kept the pressure, slowly shifting the device from side to side. Paige sucked in a breath. "Oh... _oh_ god."

He smiled. She knew that he liked this, too, being able to stay still and just watch her. He clicked the device up to the fourth setting, the second strongest it could go, and she whimpered quietly, everything she had been feeling increasing in intensity and then continuing to build. "Shit. _Shit_." A corner of Walter's mouth turned up. She almost never swore.

Her breathing grew louder. She was getting close, helped along considerably by their earlier activities, and Walter stopped moving the vibrator, holding it firmly against her, periodically tapping his finger against it and making her stomach muscles clench in response. Paige bit her lip, wanting to moan but too self – conscious to do so because of where they were. Tears sprang to her eyes as she whimpered, pushing her hips forward against the buzzing device. Her thighs were beginning to shake; they always did but she usually couldn't see them doing so, and her feet felt cold from lack of blood supply to them. "F – " Her breathing was heavy, and the next time he tapped his finger she let out a loud moan, unable to help herself. Embarrassed, she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked at Walter with wide eyes, her other hand finding the corner of a pillow and twisting her fingers around it.

Keeping her hand less than an inch from her lips, she closed her eyes. " _I'm so close. I'm so close. Walter, I'm so close_ ," she whispered, bending her left knee more and lifting her foot off the mattress, tipping that leg away from him so he could hold the vibrator more directly against her nerves. She knew from past experience that she could get there with nothing else if he kept up the stimulation long enough – and it wouldn't be long at all – but she wanted, _needed_ her release, and she put her hand back over her mouth, spreading her middle and ring fingers enough so she could talk. " _Walter, please_."

She looked down at his thumb as it found the button, and the anticipation almost brought her over the edge on its own, but then he pressed down, switching the intensity to the fifth level, and both of her feet slammed back down onto the mattress, her hips lifting to press hard against the vibrator. Walter sat up, his free hand pushing her hips back down, lifting her left foot back off the ground and pushing it back to the side, keeping her knees far apart.

Both Paige's hands were off to the side, twisting around the sheets. She was now drenched in sweat, the vibrations causing waves of pleasure to shoot through her body. She bit down on her lip again, hard. The feeling that was rapidly building between her hips was intense and increasingly so and she knew from experience how hard she was going to come and was terrified at the idea of a loud finish in the house Walter's parents owned.

She looked at Walter again, her eyes full of desperation, afraid to attempt to say anything. He understood, leaning down, surrounding her lips with his own. He was just in time. Paige's thighs shook hard, her flesh pulsing against the vibrator, and the sharp sound that exploded from between her lips was muffled by Walter's mouth. He expertly clicked off and dropped the device, sliding a hand up and down her leg soothingly as he kissed her, keeping her remaining moans between the two of them. When the aftershocks had fully subsided, she bumped her nose against his cheek and whispered a thank you, glad he understood why she hadn't wanted to be loud, even though no one was around.

"I love you," he whispered between slow kisses, brushing some of her hair back behind her ear and gently cradling her jaw. His other hand slid around her body, pulling her closer to him. "I couldn't get through all this without you."

"I told you I wouldn't leave you alone," she whispered back. "Remember?"

"I do," he said. "But do you remember what _I_ said to _you_ the day we got together?" He kissed her again. "I promised I'd be present. I'd tell you how I love and appreciate you every day. And..."

"And you promised that no matter how much I gave, I would never feel taken for granted," Paige finished. She touched a finger to his lower lip. "I remember, Walter."

"Thank you for coming back here with me," he said. His eyes closed briefly. "I just...I was really unraveling out there. It's still difficult...immensely difficult...for me to think about these things. Talking about them is harder. I'm not trying to keep things from you. Just talking about them is like reliving all the pain they cause me and sometimes I'm just..." he bit his lip. "I'm just not strong enough to do that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, running a hand over his cheek lovingly. "I'm so proud of you for talking to me. Walter, I'm _so_ proud of you."

"I try," he said, his voice emotional again. "I really do try."

"I know. I know."

They lay there, silently, noses just too far apart to touch, enjoying the solitude. Walter didn't seem to be ready to fall asleep now, and Paige was secretly glad. She loved laying with him when they were both awake, just enjoying the closeness. She affectionately bumped her nose against his.

He kissed her again, and Paige closed her eyes, trailing her hand over his chest, his abdomen, before rolling closer and sliding it over to his back. Her body temperature was coming back down to normal, the sweat on her skin giving her a bit of a chill. She wiggled closer, her breasts pressing against his chest, their hips bumping before settling together. She returned her lips to his, stroking first his bottom lip with her tongue, then his own when he gave her access. She shifted again against him, and upon feeling a stirring against her thigh broke their lip contact. "I thought you were tired," she commented, wiggling some more. A quiet groan was the response, and Paige smiled as their lips met again. She was tired now, and she was sensitive, but she lifted her left leg, hooking it over his, feeling him surge between her thighs and she pressed lightly down on him. Walter groaned again, barely loud enough to hear, his eyes closed. Bringing her leg back over, Paige trapped him between her thighs and rolled her hips as best she could while on her side. The stimulation elicited another groan from Walter, and Paige felt guilty at how much she loved knowing that there was so much going on in his head and she was the only thing in the _world_ that could help right now. She slid her hand over his hip, lightly gripping his rear for purchase as she continued to rub on him. He pressed up against her, hard and insistent, and she squeezed her thighs together as best she could, providing him with maximum stimulation.

After a minute or two more, she pushed gently on his chest, encouraging him to roll onto his back. He was too close to the edge of the mattress, and they shuffled to the left until he was able to get where she wanted him. Swinging a leg over, she positioned herself just above him, holding him between her index and middle finger but not making a move to lower herself. Reaching out with her other hand, she ran her fingers lightly over his abdomen, feeling him twitch in anticipation.

"Paige."

She relented, sinking all the way down on him and placing both hands on the mattress just above Walter's hips as she began to ride him. She kept her movements slow at first – she was still sensitive from her orgasm and needed a little more time to get wet enough for anything vigorous to be comfortable – and enjoying the way his eyes seemed to roll back in his head when she eventually picked up the pace. The phrase _oh my god,_ escaped his lips, three, four, five times, and she shifted slightly, finding better leverage. She was always tighter after she orgasmed, and now that she was more comfortable again, Paige clenched her muscles around him as she moved up and down. He began to thrust up to meet her, a sure sign, in this position, that he was getting close. She upped the tempo, and he sat up, using his hands for leverage as his hips pumped along with her. She hated that she couldn't properly kiss him in this position.

"Paige," he gasped, his eyes falling closed, and she didn't falter, keeping up the rhythm, taking him in entirely with each thrust. "Paige, I'm..." he groaned, thrusting harder a half dozen more times before she sank all the way onto him and ground against his hips at the same time he erupted inside her, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her. She took his face firmly between her hands and kissed him hard.

He leaned back against the pillows, bringing her with him, and she lay on his chest, her nose pushed into his neck. "Walter, I love you so much," she said again, for the who – could – count – anymore time that day.

He stroked her hair, then rolled them over until she was on her back. "I'll go down on you," he said, clearly having noticed that she didn't finish. He began the way he always did, by kissing her neck and then starting to work his way down, planting kisses to both her breasts before trailing them all the way down to her stomach.

"No." She curled her hands lightly around his hair even though she knew the word was all that was necessary to get him to stop. He looked at her curiously. "Don't."

"I won't use you like that," he said simply.

"Walter." He crawled back up her body, staring down at her. She loved when he looked at her like this, when she could so clearly see his love for her in his eyes. "It's okay to need like this. Loss can make you crave the closeness of someone you love. That doesn't mean you're using me. All I want is to make you feel better. And I _love_ being close with you like this. It's _never_ a chore. Even if you need it. I promise." She ran a hand through his hair. "It's okay to need me. In all honesty, I like it that you do."

He looked conflicted. "I know, but...you didn't..."

"You know I did earlier. I don't need anything else. Honestly right now I don't _want_ anything else." This most recent encounter hadn't been uncomfortable, but the feelings had been dulled for her. Her body needed time to recuperate. She wished it didn't. Despite how she felt right now, she knew in the morning she wouldn't be able to believe she'd turned down Walter's offer to put his tongue on her. "I may take you up on that when we get back to the States, though."

Walter grinned. "I'd be happy to oblige, ma'am," he said in a heavy Irish accent. Paige giggled, reaching for him, and he lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers.

"How much longer before your mom comes home?" She asked.

"She said four when I saw her early this morning."

Paige reached for her phone, squinting at the display. "Three hours."

Walter reached down and grabbed the comforter, tugging it up over them. "Set your alarm for two hours from now. So we'll have time to shower."

"Hour and a half," she said. "I gotta get these sheets in the wash before your mother sees them."

"She won't come in here until after we leave. There's time."

His voice was slurring slightly. Paige snuggled close to him, grateful that he was near sleep. He'd tossed and turned so much the previous night. She set the alarm and put her phone down on the mattress and allowed herself to doze off after mumbling how much she loved him one more time, just to make sure he knew.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here is the final chapter. I was considering breaking it up into two, but I don't like ending fics on prime numbers and six chapters is better than seven. Plus they wouldn't have been very long chapters anyway since the fic is from Paige's POV and so most of the funeral ceremony would be something she doesn't understand.**

 **Anyway huge thanks to all readers and reviewers of this fic, I actually really enjoyed planning and writing it.**

* * *

Louise left early in the morning to go to where her husband's body was being prepared, once again insisting that she had to do this all herself. "I need to make sure he's ready. Then go with him to the church. Walter, you remember how to get there?"

After being assured that he did, Louise kissed her son, son – in – law, and Paige on the cheek and headed out the door.

Paige watched her go. "I never realized your mom was so independent. Or assertive."

"She..." Walter shook his head. "She never was."

"Your dad was pretty authoritative," Sylvester said. "Maybe she just always felt like he was a better decision maker and so she left all of those things up to him. But now she...has no choice." He stood up, taking his and Paige's cereal bowls and rinsing them in the sink.

Paige thought that, at times, Louise had seemed almost afraid to try to defy her husband. That wasn't the type of relationship she would want for herself, and she always had been a bit resentful of Sean, because she thought that Louise might have tried harder to understand Walter if it hadn't been for Sean's loud, insistent claims that the boy was hopeless. Honestly it had made her angry at Louise too, for a while, but she couldn't blame someone for not being strong enough to stand up to someone. She'd certainly let Drew walk all over her for the better part of a year.

She wasn't going to argue with Sly over the reasons why Louise had been so meek in the shadow of her husband. It wasn't appropriate. "So, uh, Walter," she said, resting her head on her hands. "What's to be expected at this funeral? I haven't been to a Catholic funeral in close to twenty years and never one in Ireland."

"We have diverted a bit from the traditional Irish wake," Walter said. "My mother did spend some times down where my father's body was laid out, but it's usually a bigger affair. Never seemed necessary to me."

"She told me that while Sean was big on Irish traditions," Sylvester said, "he oddly didn't want them for himself. She said they talked about it shortly after Megan passed away, and he didn't want his death to be a big event."

"What _do_ we expect today?" Paige asked.

"We're headed to the church in a little bit, then the cemetery will be after that. They'll use a spade and a shovel to cover the coffin with clay and then they'll be laid on the grave in the shape of a cross. Then they'll pray some more. This mass itself will probably be about ninety minutes beforehand," Walter added. "Parts of it will be in Gaelic, but, you know, it's a funeral, you can get the gist of it."

"Do you speak Gaelic?" Paige asked, genuinely curious.

"It's been decades, obviously. I think at this point I'd be much better listening to it than speaking, but it would likely come back to me quickly."

"Probably. You did learn Morse Code in just a couple of hours."

"That was a bit different. I was bored."

"Yeah, but it'd just be a refresher in Gaelic."

"True."

"Well, I won't know one word of it," Sylvester said. "So Paige, you and I can sit there and be confused together."

Paige reached over, extending her fist, and Sylvester bumped it with his own. "Deal," she said.

"There is usually a period where people will speak about the deceased," Walter said. "My mother will speak."

"I was considering it," Sylvester said, "but she said that in all honesty, Sean wouldn't even want her to say anything, if he didn't think it would make her feel better. If it was up to him he wouldn't have a funeral at all. And I don't want to go against his wishes like that. I'm sure he'd understand her talking; he did leave her all alone, after all."

Paige looked at the clock on the microwave. "We should probably get dressed."

"Paige and I showered last night," Walter said. "So it's free if you need it, Sly."

"I showered this morning before you guys were up. This works out well. We won't be pushing it getting there."

"We're not going to get there too much before it starts, though," Paige reminded him. Walter wasn't interested in subjecting himself to more belittling from family and family friends. This trip was hard enough on him and she'd promised him his interaction with them would be limited.

"Of course," Sylvester said, as he got up and headed for the stairs.

"It'll be okay," Walter said, putting his hand on top of hers. "We can get ready now. We'd only be getting there fifteen minutes or so before it starts."

She looked at him, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Hey. Are you sure? Thomas and Conner, and that one cousin..."

"I know Thomas and Conner will probably make comments again," Walter said, staring down at the table. "But I don't care." He turned his head toward her and smiled warmly. "I have the most stunning woman in all of the United States and Ireland on my arm. And she's kind. And loving. And I don't know what I did to deserve her because she could have any man in the world, but she's not with Thomas or Conner and that means I must be better than them."

* * *

Walter was right. Paige had no clue what the priest was saying for a good part of the mass, but it _was_ very touching. Less than halfway through, she pulled out a tissue and dabbed her eye.

He kept an arm around her waist the entire time, his other arm crossing over his body to hold her hand. She was proud of him.

They'd sat downstairs with his mother for over an hour the night before, and Paige had been almost concerned at how there had been no hint of the pain he had confessed to her earlier present. But once they'd gone up to their room for the night, the walls had come down again. Her pride in him had surged when she realized now his apparent calm in public was putting on a front for the sake of his mother.

But he was still hurting. Long term couples slept with a bit of space between them more often than not, but he'd spent the entire night in her arms, still needing closeness. She hadn't slept as well as a result. But she hadn't minded.

So now, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he stared up at the priest with a fairly stoic expression. He was clinging to her, but anyone sitting around them wouldn't have any way of knowing how much this all distressed him. She squeezed his hand.

When Louise spoke about her husband, Paige squeezed her eyes shut and rested her head on Walter's shoulder, feeling his head come to rest against hers. Their marriage may have been unbalanced, but Louise had adored her husband. Spending her life with him, she'd said, was the greatest decision she'd ever made.

Walter tightened his grip on her hand.

* * *

"I have to stay out here a little bit longer," Louise said. "Until all the others leave." She glanced back at the grave, shovel and spade crossed over the top, several people on their knees in front of it. "But I know you have an early flight tomorrow, so if you need to get home..."

"We probably should," Walter said. "If we pack and load the car tonight, we won't be bothering you in the morning."

"I will be up to see you off, Walter Patrick O'Brien," Louise said firmly. "We are not saying our goodbyes tonight. I almost never see you. And I will miss you too much when you are gone." She looked between Walter and Sylvester. "You boys are all I have left."

"You know," Sylvester said, "if you ever wanted to...relocate...Walter and I work together. We live just twenty minutes apart. Our friend Happy's dad used to live pretty close and she saw him all the time." He trailed off. "I'm just...just saying that if..."

Louise put her hand on her son – in – law's arm. "I _have_ to stay in Ireland as long as Tobin is alive, Sylvester. I'm about the only family he has left, and I'm in charge of his medical decisions if he ever can't make them for himself. But beyond that..." she shook her head. "This is my home. I was born in this town and I've lived here for my entire life. But home is where yer heart is, and there are large pieces of my heart in the United States."

"If you ever did decide to immigrate," Paige said, "we'd provide any assistance necessary." She glanced at Walter, who gave a nod.

"Growing up, I always just assumed I should die in Ireland," Louise said. "But the past few years have changed a lot of things. I know that eventually, living near you boys..." She smiled at Sylvester as she put her other hand on Walter's shoulder. "Megan's husband, my son, and..." she smiled at Paige, then looked back to Walter with an eyebrow raised. "My daughter – in – law, perhaps?"

Sylvester raised his eyebrows at Louise's forwardness, but Walter and Paige glanced at each other and smiled. "I think so," Walter said, looking back at his mom.

Louise threw her arms around Paige. _Take it easy,_ she thought with an amused smile on her face.

Louise drew back, holding Paige at arm's length. "I should be home in an hour or so."

"Are you sure?" Sylvester asked.

"Yes, darling. Go ahead."

The ride back to the house was quiet. Paige stared out the window, her head leaning against it even though every bump the car went over banged the side of her head against the glass. Yet another thing that looked better in movies. The day had quickly gone overcast, but it still wasn't expected to rain. She hoped they wouldn't fall into another drought. Louise had enough to worry about nowadays.

Paige couldn't imagine being alone in a house that she used to share with someone. When her father died, she was already seeing Drew. When Drew left, she had Ralph.

There was one case, six months ago, where word had come through that Walter had been killed in a risky attempt to complete a mission. The seven minutes between that word and the confirmation of his actual survival had been the most agonizing of Paige's life. She supposed she should be a little afraid of what she'd feel if she was left alone after over forty years. But she wasn't. She'd endure that pain in exchange for forty years with the man beside her.

But still. When it was all over, after that long, whoever was left was bound to be lonely. And as Walter parked the car and the three of them headed back into the house, it seemed smaller and darker than ever before.

Sylvester headed for the stairs, and Paige turned to follow, stopping when she felt Walter's hand catching around her wrist. She turned to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just..." he smiled. "Thank you again. For coming with me, and for being...my support system. Today and...and in general." He glanced around the house. "I...I'm..." He nodded. "I'm glad we came."

* * *

 **The End**


End file.
